Curiosity Killed the Cat
by The Last Performer
Summary: A short horror story about Koganei on his way home, originally for Tumblr.


**Author's note:** Originally written for the basketballpoetsociety over on Tumblr. You can see it also on my Tumblr, thelastperformer, under my art tag if you want to. I really love horror, so this was fun. It's actually the second KnB horror fic I've written, but the first I'm posting anywhere. Hope you enjoy!

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_How far could he run? How hard could he hit? Just how far could he go?_

Koganei threw his racket across the court.

He was sweating and panting hard.

"Basketball's more fun afterall," he muttered to himself. He inhaled deeply and leaned backwards, cursing the stitch in his side. It was getting dark now, and he could see a few of the brightest stars. "I didn't think I'd lose, though." He'd lost his touch in tennis, he figured.

He huffed, running a hand through his hair. As mentally straining as basketball could be, tennis was worse. In a singles match in tennis, it was all you. There was no team. It was a one-on-one brain exhausting battle. Koganei knew that. It was partly why he quit.

But he wanted to know if he still had it. If he was any good at anything, really, since he was hardly any use on the team at school.

Finally catching his breath, he walked across the court to pick up his racket. "Ow – damn!" He swore, dropping the racket. His hand was dripping a thin line of blood down his arm. "Must've cracked it," he murmured, lifting the racket once more. He started home.

It'd been a long time since he'd felt like this.

_Was basketball better? He was better in tennis, after all._

Koganei stopped.

He didn't like this feeling.

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

It was the fatigue.

_Right?_

He opened his eyes.

It was dark, save for a streetlight in the distance. Koganei wiped his bleeding hand on his pants and continued home. He rolled his shoulders back to loosen the tension, but he couldn't shake this feeling.

Was it always this dark on this road already?

Koganei rubbed his eyes hard. When he squinted in to the darkness, all he saw was red. He rubbed his eyes again, then he blinked hard several times, but the streetlight shone a deep red. He swallowed hard.

He reached for his phone and checked the time. The sun shouldn't have set that fast. He bit his lip and weighed his options. It shouldn't matter so much; all he was doing was walking home. But suddenly, the road didn't look so familiar.

Was this really the way home?

Koganei continued walking, thinking to himself that he didn't really recognize this road. It was probably the darkness disguising the familiar home fronts, or that red light gleaming in the distance that made things look so different. This was definitely the road home. It had to be.

_He knew shouldn't feel bad, but there was a weight on his shoulder._

He stopped.

Every fiber in his body was screaming to run – to take off as fast as he could away from this place. Away from the red, and away from the darkness. He inhaled shakily and tried to settle his racing mind.

There was a hand on his shoulder.

_How far could he run?_

Koganei took off running.

He could hear the footsteps following behind him. The unfamiliar panting of whatever it was close behind him. The hand had been cold and heavy on his shoulder, and he still had goosebumps. His stomach sank as he realized he was running towards that glaring red light. He was getting closer and closer, and he hated the feeling of running underneath it.

_How hard could he hit?_

He thought of turning around and socking whoever it was that was after him. He'd never been in a fight, but if worse came to worst, he could do it.

His wounded hand was starting to throb and he could feel the wet, sticky blood drying on his palm and forearm. His head was starting to ache.

It was time to choose which was worse: the red or the black; the ominous light or the mysterious darkness.

_Just how far could he go?_

He knew the streetlamp should have been the halfway point. He hated the redness of it, but at least he could see what it was.

The thing tugging at his mind most was what was behind him.

What was he running from? Someone looking for directions, maybe? A little kid, scared of the dark or the strange, red lights? A bad feeling?

He didn't want to go to the light.

He turned around.

_Curiosity killed the cat._

Koganei opened his eyes slowly and groaned quietly as he propped himself up on to his elbows. His shoulders and hips ached, while there was a slow, pulsing pain in his hand. His head hurt.

"Are you alright?"

His head snapped up. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Tsucchi," he said softly.

"Mitobe and I were on our way home when we saw you. What happened?"

Koganei's gaze fell towards the ground. He was lightheaded, and the lights from the houses were hurting his eyes. Tsuchida had a good question.

"I don't know," Koganei answered.

Mitobe was alarmed, and gaped a little at the answer.

"Maybe we should take you home," Tsuchida said warily. "Or to a doctor, maybe."

Koganei sat himself up. His mouth was dry, and it felt weird to talk. He looked down at his hand, stained red with blood from a cut on his hand. "I think I'm okay. I wouldn't mind some help home, but I don't need a doctor," he decided. Mitobe helped him up and smiled.

"Make sure you take care of that cut on your hand," Tsuchida said. "Coach won't be happy if you have to skip practice because of it, so be sure to wrap it up properly." Mitobe nodded in agreement, as if to warn him that it might hurt to dribble.

Koganei chuckled. "I will," he assured him.

"Good, 'cause we'll need you at practice," Tsuchida said. He huffed quietly, crossing his arms. "Your parents aren't gonna be too happy about this, you know."

"Yeah, I know. And I'll play tomorrow, too, no worries," Koganei answered. He rubbed his eyes and blinked fast. Soon, his eyes adjusted to the light and he could see the familiar signs and houses. He smiled.

_But satisfaction brought it back._

Mitobe smiled, and Tsuchida hit him lightly on the shoulders. The three of them started on the road home.

Koganei, straining to remember what had happened – what he'd seen – started to lag behind, staring hard at his hand. The tension was gone in his shoulders, but one of them ached like it would bruise. He rubbed his eyes, thinking that his head ached like he'd fallen. He swallowed hard.

It must have been the fatigue.

_Right?_

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**End.**

**Author's note:** Once I found out that Koganei used to play tennis, I just had to put it in a fic somewhere ha ha. My PoT feels come and go when I think about KnB. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story. Drop a review and let me know what you think


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